Chapter Text
The first sign that something was wrong was that Vox was quiet.
Not completely quiet.
That would have been impossible.
Vox being completely quiet was like a thunderstorm deciding to politely knock before entering a house. It simply did not happen.
But he was quieter than usual.
No livestream.
No music blasting from his room.
No dramatic arguments with his own reflection.
Instead, he was sitting upside down on the couch with his legs hanging over the backrest, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, glasses slightly crooked, staring at the ceiling like he was waiting for the universe itself to apologize.
Hisako walked into the living room, took one look at him, and immediately knew.
“Oh dear.”
Vox slowly looked over.
“Mom.”
“Yes?”
“I have been emotionally betrayed.”
Hisako sighed.
Not because she was annoyed.
Because she knew exactly what kind of conversation this was going to be.
“By whom?”
The silence that followed was immediate.
Niffty, who was sitting nearby organizing stickers by color, slowly looked up.
“Oh.”
The twins glanced over from their game.
“Is it him?”
Vox sat up.
“I hate that everyone knows.”
“You talk about him constantly,” Zorya said.
“I do not.”
“Vox.”
“…Okay, maybe I do.”
Vixxie tilted her head.
“The radio guy?”
Vox pointed dramatically.
“Yes. Him.”
Niffty smiled.
“Alastor.”
Vox grabbed a pillow and covered his face.
“I am surrounded by traitors.”
Hisako sat beside him.
“Would you like to explain?”
Vox immediately moved the pillow away.
“Yes.”
Everyone prepared themselves.
Because when Vox said yes, it meant they were about to receive a full emotional documentary with bonus commentary.
“So.”
He held up one finger.
“First of all, I am not saying I hate him.”
Everyone nodded.
“Okay.”
“I am not saying he is evil.”
“Okay.”
“I am saying he is one of the most frustrating people I have ever met.”
That sounded accurate.
“Because he does this thing where he acts like he is above everything.”
Vox stood and started pacing.
“Like, oh, look at me, I’m mysterious. I’m untouchable. I don’t have feelings.”
He lowered his voice dramatically.
“‘Good evening, dear friends. I am Alastor, and emotions are a foreign concept invented by lesser beings.’”
The twins laughed.
“That actually sounds like him.”
“EXACTLY.”
Vox threw his hands up.
“But then he does something nice.”
He stopped.
“And then I have to deal with the fact that maybe he’s not just pretending.”
His expression softened.
“And then I’m like…”
He sighed.
“Oh no.”
Niffty grinned.
“You like him.”
“Yes, okay? I like him.”
The twins gasped.
“The forbidden crush.”
“Stop calling it that.”
“But it is.”
Vox ignored them.
“I just thought he understood me.”
The joking faded.
Because everyone noticed when Vox stopped performing.
“He’s weird. I’m weird.”
He shrugged.
“He likes old creepy things. I like new flashy things.”
A small smile appeared.
“But he listens.”
His fingers picked at the sleeve of his hoodie.
“He actually listens when people talk about things nobody else cares about.”
He looked down.
“And I thought maybe he saw me.”
Hisako’s expression softened.
“Not the image?”
Vox looked at her.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“The image.”
He sat back down.
“Everyone knows me as this loud guy. The influencer. The TV guy. The dramatic one.”
He laughed quietly.
“And yeah, I am all those things.”
“But sometimes I wonder if that’s all people see.”
Hisako stayed silent.
Vox continued.
“I don’t know how to pretend not to care.”
He looked around the room.
“I grew up here. If something was wrong, we talked about it. If someone was upset, they said so.”
Hisako smiled.
“That’s true.”
“So when someone does the whole mysterious emotionally unavailable thing…”
He threw his hands up.
“I’m like, hello? Communication? Feelings? Words? We invented those for a reason!”
Niffty giggled.
“You sound offended by emotional complexity.”
“I am.”
“Very on brand.”
“Thank you.”
Then Vox got quieter.
“But that’s not even the worst part.”
Hisako already knew.
“Your body?”
He nodded.
The room became calmer.
“I hate that I care.”
Nobody interrupted.
“I know people love me.”
He looked at his family.
“I know that.”
“And I believe them.”
That mattered.
“But sometimes my brain just looks at me and goes…”
He frowned.
“Something is wrong.”
Hisako reached for his hand.
“Tell me.”
Vox stared at their hands.
“I don’t hate my body.”
A pause.
“I need people to understand that.”
Hisako nodded.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to change into someone else.”
His voice became softer.
“I don’t want hormones. I don’t want surgery.”
He swallowed.
“I know those things are right for some people. I know they help people.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“But they’re not what I want.”
Hisako squeezed his hand.
“Okay.”
“I just…”
He looked frustrated.
“I wish my body would stop arguing with me.”
Silence.
“I know who I am.”
His voice was firm.
“I know I’m a boy.”
Hisako smiled.
“I know.”
“I’ve never doubted that.”
“I know.”
“But sometimes my reflection feels weird.”
He looked away.
“Like I’m looking at a doll.”
“A doll?”
“Yeah.”
He laughed sadly.
“Like one of those expensive porcelain ones people put on shelves.”
He gestured toward himself.
“Everything is too perfect.”
His voice cracked.
“Too polished.”
“Too arranged.”
“Like someone made a character instead of a person.”
Hisako’s expression softened.
“And you don’t feel like that person?”
“Sometimes.”
He rubbed his face.
“Everyone says I’m pretty. Everyone says I’m cute. Everyone says I look amazing.”
He shook his head.
“And I know they’re not lying.”
A pause.
“That’s the annoying part.”
“Because they’re seeing something real.”
“But my brain doesn’t always recognize it.”
Hisako pulled him closer.
“Feeling disconnected doesn’t mean you’re fake.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to prove yourself.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to earn being yourself.”
“I know.”
Vox sighed.
“I hate knowing all the answers and still feeling awful.”
Niffty pointed from across the room.
“Most teenager sentence ever.”
Vox looked offended.
“I am having an emotional breakthrough.”
“And I love that.”
“Thank you.”
“Still dramatic.”
“Also thank you.”
For a while, nobody tried to fix him.
They just sat there.
Because that was the thing about this family.
Nobody had to be falling apart to deserve comfort.
Eventually Vox leaned back.
“I just wish everyone had this.”
“What?”
He looked around.
“A place where you can just exist.”
His voice became quieter.
“Where you don’t have to perform.”
“Where you don’t have to pretend you’re okay.”
“Where someone can say ‘I’m having a terrible day’ and nobody makes them feel annoying.”
Then—
Vox froze.
“…No.”
Hisako blinked.
“What?”
He looked horrified.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Vox?”
“My body has chosen violence.”
A pause.
“Oh.”
“Seriously?”
He buried his face in the pillow.
“Today?”
Hisako immediately got up.
“Do you need anything?”
“Chocolate.”
“Already getting it.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I need approximately all candy ever created.”
“I’ll see what we have.”
A few minutes later, the front door opened.
“NIIIIIFFTY!”
“WE BROUGHT SNACKS!”
The twins ran inside.
Niffty followed carrying bags.
She stopped.
Looked at Vox.
Looked at the candy.
Looked at Hisako.
“…Oh.”
Vox pointed dramatically.
“I have suffered.”
Niffty immediately dropped everything.
“Emergency?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Emotional and biological.”
Zorya nodded seriously.
“The worst combo.”
Vixxie handed him a candy bar.
“Here.”
Vox accepted it.
“Thank you.”
“We knew something was wrong because you weren’t yelling.”
“That is fair.”
Soon the living room was chaos.
Blankets everywhere.
Snacks everywhere.
Someone started making a pillow fort.
Vox was laughing again.
A real laugh.
Then he looked around.
“You know what?”
“What?” Niffty asked.
“We should do this more.”
“A sleepover?”
Vox blinked.
“Wait.”
Zorya’s eyes lit up.
“Like a safe space.”
Vixxie nodded.
“Somewhere people can talk.”
Niffty gasped.
“With snacks.”
Vox stared.
“…I hate that this is actually a good idea.”
Hisako smiled.
“I think people would appreciate it.”
Vox sighed dramatically.
“Fine.”
Everyone cheered.
“But small.”
“Sure.”
“Like ten people.”
“Absolutely.”
“Niffty.”
She looked up from her phone.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Making the guest list.”
“We decided this thirty seconds ago.”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re terrifying.”
“Both can be true.”
And that was how it started.
Not with a huge event.
Not with everyone.
Just a teenager sitting on a couch with his family, eating candy, admitting he was struggling, and discovering that maybe the best thing you could give someone wasn’t advice.
Sometimes it was just a place where they didn’t have to pretend.